The Drowned Boy Read Online Free Page B

fast as other children,” she explained. “But I’m sure you knew that.”
    “How was it to live in a house by Damtjern with a baby?” Sejer asked. “Were you constantly worried about the pond?”
    She nodded and said that it was dangerous with such a young child to have a deep and alluring pond so close to the house.
    “But we couldn’t go around being scared all the time,” she said. “After all, plenty of people live by the water. Children grow up by the sea. Two children in two years have drowned down by Stranda. I know things like that happen. And now it’s happened to us.”
    “Yes,” he said and nodded. “What you’re saying is true, of course. But I’d like to ask you another question. You’re very young to be a mother. Was Tommy a wanted child? I mean, was he planned?”
    “Yes, we wanted him,” she said. “I mean, I didn’t use anything, and neither did Nicolai. So we weren’t exactly surprised to find out I was pregnant. And I was so happy when I saw the test was positive. We were over the moon. We whooped and danced around the kitchen like kids. So, there’s your answer,” she added, with a wan smile. “Of course he was wanted. Wanted with all my heart, you have to believe me.”
    “And then,” Sejer continued thoughtfully, “Tommy finally came into the world. Tell me about the pregnancy; what did it feel like to be pregnant? You’ve got such a slim figure and a baby is quite a weight to carry.”
    “Oh no,” she livened up and spoke with enthusiasm. “Everything was great. It was an easy pregnancy, and I felt wonderful. Everyone said I looked great too. And I felt absolutely fine the whole time. I didn’t put on much weight either and Tommy only weighed six pounds. Nicolai teased us all the time. Said that Tommy looked like a little buttermilk pudding, all white and smooth.”
    “What sort of baby was he?” Sejer asked. “Was he a happy baby?”
    “Yes,” she said and nodded. “A very happy baby. He occasionally had trouble sleeping, but we coped. We took turns getting up at night. And sometimes we argued, but generally we coped well.”
    “Did you breastfeed him?”
    “No, no, I didn’t.”
    “Why not? Did you not have milk?”
    “I didn’t want to breastfeed,” she said sullenly. “You can see what I look like; I wasn’t made for that sort of thing.” She was referring to her flat chest, where two slight mounds were in evidence under the cropped, tight top.
    He noticed a sudden fleeting reluctance, as if he had touched a sore point that she didn’t want to talk about. She clammed up and became unreachable. And he thought, as he looked at the small girl sitting beside him in her ripped jeans, that she was perhaps to blame for her son’s death. That she had done something improper, that she was guilty of a crime. Maybe the very worst kind. He thought like this out of habit; to be fair, it was a hazard of the job. Suspicion. To doubt people. Take nothing for granted. And at the same time he tried not to be judgmental. Then he wondered how, if this really was a murder case, they would ever manage to prove it when there were no witnesses? When the mother claimed that the toddler had gone down to the water on his own when no one was watching him. While she was in the bathroom. And a big filleted fish was lying on the counter.
    “He was an adventurous little boy,” Carmen said. “He wanted to explore and look at everything. Inside the house he crawled around at the speed of light. It was hard to keep up with him,” she said, drying a tear. “I was always so worried that he might hurt himself.”
     
    She was over the first hurdle now and could see things from a different angle, what had happened down by the water, the great tragedy. The words flowed easily and she said that she was not to blame and that it was an accident. Sejer made a mental note that she had distanced herself from the tragedy. She was able to keep it at arm’s length, for the moment at least.